A Grievous Cliché
by Theaphelia
Summary: Yet another parody, but this time, it's Grievousfic parodies! Here, you will find every Cliché that is attacking the dear General. Please wear sanitypreservers while reading.
1. The Resurrection

Woo, more parody fic from me! CHEER DAMN YOU.

Anyways. Wow, it's only been a few months and already, General Grievous Fan-clichés are rolling in! Don't you love it? You know you do. I sure do. Because it means I can write more parodies!

Disclaimer: I intend no harm to people who can take these ideas and make them into good stories. I'm making fun of those that do not. I may even make fun of my own fic ("Destroyed by Fate," go read it. Please? Plug. God I'm lame), yet I still expect to be flamed for this.

Also, Grievous isn't mine. Sadly, he belongs to a man named George Lucas, or maybe Warren Fu. Not entirely sure about that one.

And so, without further ado, I present to you:

Grievous Clichés Part l'un: Resurrection.

* * *

A medical droid beeped noisily. General Grievous lay unmoving on a cold, metal table. For you see, he was not dead—he was unconscious. 

"His brain is still functioning," said one droid to another. "The protective shell has kept it and his spinal cord from being incinerated. He is able to be fixed."

The droids began working—molten wires and shorted circuits were replaced with new, improved parts. They replaced his missing hands with new ones. Artificial organs were placed where his organic ones had been. The ash was cleaned from around where his eyes used to be. After hours of laboring, their task had been complete—the General was back in working order.

"General Grievous," said one of his few remaining Magnaguards, who had been overseeing the reconstruction.

"What do you want?"

"Rise."

"Who are you to tell me to rise, you clunking heap of bolts?" the General snapped, standing up and opening his eyes. He didn't see anything. He blinked. Still nothing. He reached his fingers to where his eyes were—and felt nothing. He had no eyes!

"You FOOLS!" he thundered at the medical droids, even though they were behind him—he didn't know that. "You repaired the rest of my body and forgot to give me EYES! You useless pieces of scrap metal, if I could find where you were I'd rip your vocabulators out—"

He stormed around the room, shooting his hands out wherever he heard noise, trying to grab the annoying machines and destroy them. All Hell broke loose in the medical lab, droids scattered around in fear, trying to escape the ranting Grievous. He continued reaching around, trying to find something—anything—to kill. Something in front of him beeped. He lifted his arm and slammed it into the something, and suddenly, he was burning again.

You see, that something had been a circuit box. He felt his wires overload, and the electrical current ripped through the protective shell around his brain and fried it, too. Once again, he had died. And this time, it was permanent.

The End.

* * *

I PROMISE that the next one will be better. 


	2. The Fangirl Apprentice

Disclaimer: I intend no harm to people who can take these ideas and make them into good stories. I'm making fun of those that do not. I may even make fun of my own fic ("Destroyed by Fate," go read it. Please? Plug. God I'm lame), yet I still expect to be flamed for this.

Also, Grievous isn't mine. Sadly, he belongs to a man named George Lucas, or maybe Warren Fu. Not entirely sure about that one.

And so, without further ado, I present to you:

Grievous Clichés Part Deux: The Fangirl Apprentice.

* * *

General Grievous, supreme and almighty stud…er, commander…of the Separatist Droid Army, stood inside his ship, _The Invisible Hand_. Before him, two Magnaguards held a young girl in their powerful arms. She wept silently, looking up at the General pleadingly. 

Grievous stared at the pathetic thing that his guards had brought before him. "Why did you bring this creature to me?"

"We found her hiding on the ship, sir," said one of the Magnaguards. "We have reason to believe that she is a Republic spy, and we—"

"Did I not tell you what to do with Republic filth stowaways?" Grievous thundered angrily. "Throw them in the fusion reaction chamber! I have no use for this…this…human!"

"But sir," the other Magnaguard replied, "We just had this feeling…"

"You have no feelings," the general snorted. "You are droids."

"We had a feeling, sir. The feeling said to bring this girl to you."

Grievous looked down at the girl. For a split second, a look of excited victory flashed across her face. She emitted a soft sound, which sounded like "squee". In an instant it was gone, replaced by the distressed, desperate face and pained moaning.

Grievous eyed the girl suspiciously. "State your name, girl."

"I am Jedi Master Amyosieu Ditoghetsuia. You can call me 'Amy'." She smiled at him, then shook her head violently and pouted at him.

"How about I just call you 'Jedi Scum'," he retorted, laughing. Amy pouted at him, her full, red lips turning downward. Tears began to emerge from her emerald and lavender eyes and streak down her face in crystalline droplets of sadness. They landed in her soft, golden-with-auburn-streaks tresses, leaving behind the dark stains of pain. He examined her closer. She had skin like porcelain, a pair of candy lips and a bubblegum tongue.

No, really. She extended her tongue out to lick the tears from her cheek and it was bright pink.

Something in Grievous snapped. He stared at the pained girl's face and he felt his gutsacked heart soften. "Let the girl go," he ordered the Magnaguards. They dropped her, and she fell to her knees.

"I will spare you," he snapped. "But only because I am in a good mood."

"Thank you, General Shnookykins—um, Grievous," said Amy, lowering her head in reverence. A small string of drool fell from her lips.

Grievous rolled his eyes. Something seemed to be wrong with this girl's brain—radiation illness, maybe? And why was he tolerating some random Jedi who mistakenly called him "Shnookykins"?

"You will remain on the ship, with no communication with your Jedi companions," he growled. "And you will remain in my service while you are here."

"Reeeeeeaaaaaaally?" the Jedi squealed. Grievous eyed her, then turned away.

"Yes."

She knelt before him, her head leaning against his pelvic plates. "And how may I serve you now, my Master?"

"You will stop slobbering on my pelvic plates," Grievous snapped. The girl stood up quickly.

"I apologize, Sir."

Grievous, satisfied, turned away from the strange girl and looked out the window. The battle was progressing well. The Republic forces were beginning to be pushed backward. They just weren't a match for him.

And yet something wasn't right. He may not have had the ability to use the Force, but he could sense a disturbance in the universe. There was a disturbance on the ship, and within himself.

However, he simply ignored the feeling. He could not fall victim to senseless thoughts. He put all of his focus on the battlefield instead.

Little did he know, ignoring his new apprentice would prove to be fatal…to his sanity.

-

General Grievous stalked around the command center of the _Invisible Hand_, angrily slapping battle droids who gave him unfavorable reports.

"What do you mean, our defenses are breached? Send out more droids to reinforce them!" he growled, smacking the droid on the head.

Nearby, Amy watched his movements closely. So graceful, so flowing. He felt her eyes on him and turned to glare at her.

"What are you staring at, woman?"

"Oh, I was just wondering about my training…" she said.

"What about it?"

"When is it starting?"

"When I feel it necessary, woman." He turned away from her. A few seconds later, her small voice was heard again.

"Sir?"

"What?"

"Do you feel it necessary yet?"

"No, now be silent."

She was silent. Then—

"Yet?"

"NO!" he cried, stalking over to her and looming over her imposingly. He caught her staring at his pelvic plates and pulled his cape around himself. "You will stop being insubordinate, woman. That will be your first lesson—obedience."

"Ooh, kinky," she said, smiling. He narrowed his eyes at her and muttered a derogatory term in his native tongue, then went back to terrorizing the droids. She spoke up again.

"Does obedience training begin tonight?"

"It begins right now," he snapped. "Your first order is to be silent. Now obey, woman!"

She snapped her mouth shut, but it didn't stop the flow of tears. The liquid diamonds ran down her cheeks, glistening in the dim light of the ship. Grievous rolled his eyes and turned away. He wasn't falling for this again.

"General…"

"_What?_" he snapped. "I told you to be silent!"

"I…I'm only t-trying to please you," she sobbed, covering her face with her delicate, manicured hands. "Please, don't be mad at me. I only want to be the best warrior I can be."

"And at this rate, the best skills you will have will be those of a legless clone trooper," he spat.

Amy wailed. She shook her head and let out screams like the karabbac, causing a nearby battle droid to short-circuit. Grievous turned down his audioflaps, trying to avoid having his brain explode.

"YOU WILL CEASE PRODUCING THAT NOISE, HUMAN!" he screamed, storming up to her with his hand raised. She didn't stop wailing, and he slapped her. She immediately became silent and fell backwards, unconscious.

"Bring that creature to her bedroom," he ordered a nearby Magnaguard. The guard picked her up gently and carried her off.

_Even the Magnaguards are acting funny, _Grievous thought, watching his self-trained bodyguard treating the girl like a newborn. Shaking his head in mystified disbelief, he turned back to the battle droids, who were reporting yet another failure…

-

General Grievous opened his eyes. He was inside of his stasis chamber—something had caused him to fall out of stasis.

He found himself thinking about Amy, and how harsh he had been on her that day. He really shouldn't have hit her so hard…he could have seriously hurt her, or worse, killed her.

_Why do you care? _His inner voice snapped at him. _Stupid Jedi wench snuck on this ship, and yet you took her into your care. She ought to have a bit more respect._

Sill, he found himself worrying. He pulled his cloak on and opened the door to his room, looking out into the hallway. His guards were by the door, and he walked past them towards he room he had given to Amy.

He finally reached her door and opened it slowly. There, in a king-size bed, lay Amy. His eyes rested on her nude form, the perfectly sculpted curves, the supple breasts…

He mentally smacked himself. _Human. She's a HUMAN. And you don't even have those parts anymore! How would you…what are you doing you idiot? Stop it!_

He had started walking towards the girl's bed, his nonexistent loins burning. I swear, you could smell the barbecue sauce from the Huk homeworld.

He lifted one heavy leg onto the bed, and slowly drew himself onto the bed, leaning over her beautiful form. The bed creaked, the legs snapped, and it crashed to the floor, making Amy sit up with a start and hit her beautiful head on the General's chest.

"Ow!" She cried, then looked up at Grievous, whose golden eyes burned with lust. The cyborg General was gone—all that was left was a being hungry for some boo-tay.

"You will serve me now," he said breathlessly. Amy smiled, and looked down at his pelvic plates. "I have just the thing to fix your lack of organs…"

She reached over to her end-table and showed him. It was a phallic object, and one end of it was perfectly sculpted to fit into the space between his pelvic plates…

"A…detachable penis?" he asked. "Put it on, woman,"

"On me or you?"

"ME, you fool!"

Ignoring his insult, she placed the organ into the space, then pulled the blankets down to reveal herself.

Grievous adjusted himself, his eyes meeting hers with insatiable lust, and—

-

Grievous opened his eyes with a start. He was holding something in his arms. Something…squishy.

He looked at the something, which had opened its eyes and was staring at him adoringly.

Suddenly, all of last night's events came flooding back, and he did something he hadn't done since he'd been rebuilt.

He screeched.

His apprentice's eyes flew open wide as he flung her off of him, against the nearby wall. He stood up, growling, and looked down to remove his lightsaber from his belt, and noticed the strange device hooked to his pelvic plates. Eyeing the sinful object loathingly, he grabbed it and threw it at the frightened girl.

"You've defiled my body!" he screamed, pulling out a lightsaber and swinging it at her, cutting her head off. "You took control of my mind! Lousy jedi slime—" He swung again—her arm fell off. He swung several more times, removing the rest of her limbs. He then cut up her torso into quarters, ruining the beautiful curves of her perfect body.

Hearing the noise, his guards ran into the room, staves at the ready. They saw the chopped-up girl, and lowered their staves.

"Bring the pieces of that monster to the fusion reaction chamber and dispose of them!" he commanded, pointing at the pieces. "And that device, as well!"

He stormed out of the room, shaking his head and grumbling in Kaleesh. Bestiality…that's what it was. He felt defiled and disgusting.

He entered the command center of the _Invisible Hand _and found his droids already at work.

"Make sure nothing but droids enter this ship!" he barked, walking around the room. "Any stowaways found are to be tossed into the fusion reaction chamber. That is an ORDER."

* * *


	3. Redeemed

Disclaimer: I intend no harm to people who can take these ideas and make them into good stories. I'm making fun of those that do not. I may even make fun of my own fic ("Destroyed by Fate," go read it. Please? Plug. God I'm lame), yet I still expect to be flamed for this.

Also, Grievous isn't mine. Sadly, he belongs to a man named George Lucas, or maybe Warren Fu. Not entirely sure about that one.

And so, without further ado, I present to you:

Grievous Clichés Part Trois: Redemption.

(Be warned—this chapter gets EXTREMELY weird, and has semi-MPREG...yeah. Like I said, weird.)

* * *

General Grievous grabbed the electrostaff and advanced on the cliff-dangling Obi-Wan. He eyed the Jedi coldly, with every intention to end the meddling scum's life. He lifted the staff over his head and went to thrust it into Obi-Wan's fleshy scalp. 

"STOP!" Grievous spun around to find a girl behind him. She stood there, in a long, flowing, white linen dress. Her skin was reddish-tan, and scaly. Her eyes were golden, gently blended with blue into a swirl of elegant aqua. Small horns protruded from her long, slender ears. She had hair of golden sunshine…but it was like no sunshine Grievous had ever seen. Yet it warmed him like a mother's embrace. Aw so twee.

"What do you want, little girl?" Grievous snapped, hiding away any trace of the warmth the girl's ridiculous hair gave to him. "I'm busy right now!"

"You can't kill him!" the girl cried. "You love him!"

Grievous stared at the girl incredulously, then narrowed his eyes are started towards her with the electrostaff. How dare she accuse him of being in love with this…this…JEDI!

"You will pay for your interference, girl!" Grievous growled.

"Mother, please!" the girl cried. When Grievous continued advancing on her, the girl shut her eyes and extended her clawed, four-fingered hands, and suddenly, everything was black.

_He was in a dying forest, surrounded by yellowing and reddish leaves. A young man with a padawan's braid was gently caressing him, running his hands over the General's chest…_

_The General ran his hands over his swollen belly, tears running down his face…_

_He stared into the beautiful, blue-and-gold eyes of a baby girl with light skin and small ears…_

Suddenly, General Grievous could remember everything. His culture—wives were male, and husbands were female; his love affair with Obi-Wan, the dashing padawan with the ridiculous braid; the smacks he received for reading _Kalee XXX _on his…no, _her_…days off, and fantasizing about Obi-Dear. It was all clear as water to her now. Finally, she remembered her real name—Daisy…General Daisy "Grievous" Shakar.

The girl opened her eyes and stared into the eyes of her cybernetic mother. "Do you remember me now? I am Saraujdirial Shakar-Kenobi, half-Kaleesh, half-human, born with the power to utilize the Force. I am known as Sara."

"My DAUGHTER!" cried the now-emotional former murder machine named Daisy Shakar, running at the girl and grabbing her in a big hug, hacking into her ear. "So often back then I would wonder about you…how you were faring in this cold, pain-filled Galaxy…I'm so glad you are safe!"

Obi-Wan had climbed back onto the platform, and was watching the scene happily. After so many years, his family was reunited. After so many years, a being tricked by evil has returned to Light.

Suddenly, Daisy remembered—the Jedi! Sidious planned to destroy them all!

"Obi-Dear," said Daisy, standing up and turning back to the Jedi. "You must warn your comrades; Sidious plans to destroy them. They are all in danger!"

"Thank you, my love!" Obi-Wan alerted them via comlink, and all was right in the Galaxy again. "I shall leave the Jedi order to rejoin my beloved Daisy and Sara," he declared. "My apprentice is quite capable of taking care of himself, I'm sure. Or maybe he can join us!"

"Oh yes, my love!" Daisy said, wheezing. "Do invite him to join us!"

"I'm sure he would love it, living with us!" Sara added, then turned to Daisy. "Mother," said Sara. "I'm so glad we can be a family again…"

"Me too, Sara," said Daisy, coughing. "Me too."

And so they were happy, and forth they did go, unto friendlier places away from the troubles of the Galaxy. Daisy, Obi-Dear, and Saraujdirial moved to the planet Udinika, where their lives were lived for the Great Savior Udding, and his beloved wife Ushy, and they danced in green, thriving fields of flowers in honor of Udding. There was much stepping on feet due to Daisy's large durasteel claws, and many broken toes. But all was good, all was joyful, and Obi-Dear, Daisy, and Sara lived happily ever after.

* * *


End file.
